Canada’s divas get their due
Underrated impact of Morissette, Twain, McLachlan and Dion explored
Between 1993 and 1997, Alanis Morissette, Shania Twain, Sarah McLachlan, and Celine Dion defied the odds to become Canada’s best-selling artists, yet they very rarely get the credit they deserve. Equal parts music criticism, cultural analysis, and coming-of-age memoir, Andrea Warner’s We Oughta Know chronicles Morissette, Twain, McLachlan, and Dion’s complicated legacies with detailed research, wit, and criticism.
Q Tell us why you embarked on writing We Oughta Know.
A I stumbled on this incredibly cool but weird statistic a few years ago: there’s a sales chart of the best-selling artists in Canada and Celine Dion, Shania Twain, Alanis Morissette, and Sarah McLachlan rank higher than the Beatles, who come in #7. I was kind of surprised at first and then I thought about why I was surprised. History hasn’t really been very kind to these artists or their legacies. They’re often treated as punchlines, or their music is dismissed, or their talents/relevance is questioned. I started to unpack all of those things and saw a lot of gross sexism and misogyny tarnishing these Canadian icons and I thought it was time to confront that and make it right.
Q Part memoir, part cultural analysis, your book shares stories from your youth in East Vancouver. What effect did these four female artists have on your life?
A They were like my own Greek chorus in a lot of ways; their songs were part of the soundtrack to my teenage years. Even Celine and Shania, who I did not care for at the time, were ever-present thanks to some of my friends. Alanis gave me space and permission to explode, a real purpose, a sense of survival; Sarah was inspiring, she reaffirmed that I mattered (as a girl, as a writer) and her songs moved me through the worst time of my life; Celine was fearless, determined and resolute, and she showed me that there’s nothing weak about being vulnerable; Shania showed me subversiveness (even if I didn’t realize it until 15 years later), taught me about judgment and hard work, and reminded me that if what you want doesn’t already exist, just make it up yourself.
Q Why did you decide to include stories from your own life within the book? How does the personal exploration impact your overall arguments about the artists and their reception over time?
A When I drilled down further, I realized that those four women achieved peak fame between 1993 and 1997, which were also my high school years. They were ubiquitous, like four bizarre fairy godmothers guiding me through the hell of being a teenager. I really hated Celine and Shania as a teen. I saw them as the antithesis to Alanis and Sarah, and it stayed that way for a long time. I thought I was building myself up and strengthening my principles by tearing down other women, but obviously that’s total crap. I’ve really reconciled my feelings about Celine and Shania. I’m still a bigger fan, musically, of Alanis and Sarah, but that doesn’t mean I need to dismiss or disqualify Celine and Shania’s talents or skills, or minimize their successes. It’s the ways in which these four continue to be written about and devalued. They changed not only the Canadian music scene but music around the world. They deserve better than what they get.
Q Can you briefly explore how sexism, or patriarchal mechanisms, prevented Canadians from appreciating the impact these four artists had on the music industry? A The language with which they were written about was often sexist and misogynistic. People wrote about their looks, dismissed them for being young women who were whiners, highstrung, too sensitive, too angry. They accused Celine and Shania of being constructs of their husbands, attributing credit to the men behind the women for any success, stating the women were basically puppets — physically pleasing or not pleasing enough, scantily clad or too plain-Jane, nothing was ever really just about the music. There were challenges as to authenticity, actual talent, craftsmanship, authorship. They were too sexy, not sexy enough, too pretty, too ugly, too feminist, too successful. There was also this idea that women singing their own experiences, of being too vulnerable, was creating a “victim culture,” which was so goddamn damaging, I think we’re still suffering now from this toxic notion. Q Your book may be about musicians, but it’s relevant to more than just music fans. What are the broader messages about media and sexism? A How has gendered writing defined “good taste” and how do we broaden the scope of whose voices are counted? Look at who we call on to be experts, who we trust, who we scrutinize. Examine the pop culture you consume, your friends, your family, your work environment. Who have you validated and who have you dismissed. Why? Q Having been a music journalist for many years, what do you wish people knew about gender politics in the industry? A “It is what it is” and “that’s just the way it’s always been” are not good enough but women still hear that all the time. God, just look at the nonsense with regards to gender disparity in headliners at music festivals. There is still a huge fight, and it’s tiring as hell, but the work’s not over.